Ain't in the Mood
by CldyAlwys
Summary: Darry has a hard day and Steve presses his luck. One shot.


I was watching the movie this weekend and like usual I got all mad when Darry didn't slug Steve for his _brawn no brain_ comment. So I came up with this to help me feel better.

One shot.

S.E Hinton owns _The Outsiders,_ I do not.

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"Boss' handing out pink slips again," Eddie observed, looking down as a coworker stalked out of the makeshift office on the site, crumpling up a paper in his hand as he went.

Darry surveyed the scene with a frown before hammering another nail into the shingle in front of him. His boss had been cutting people all week and just the idea of him being next was enough to encourage Darry to try and carry three bundles of roofing up that ladder.

He'd been lucky so far, the boss had hardly glanced at him all week. The business was experiencing a dry spell and it didn't matter if he could carry up five bundles of roofing at a time if there was no roof to fix. Work had been slow and his pay was starting to suffer because of it. The idea of being cut altogether worried him more than he let show.

"Joe don't look too happy, do he?" John piped in, just coming up the ladder.

"So he'll use his severance pay to get lit tonight, and tomorrow he'll go crawling to his daddy for a job on the car lot," Eddie spit out, almost disdainful as he bent down to work.

"Yeah, ain't like he needed this job or anything," John agreed.

"Will you two quit gossiping like teenage girls and get back to work," Darry snapped, not bothering to enclose his inner frustrations, "this section's supposed to be done today."

"Relax dad," Eddie joked, but picked up another shingle anyway. No one would say it, but Darry knew they didn't want to be called into that office either.

He worked diligently, ensuring that his work was done speedily, yet correctly and by the end of the day Darry was wishing for nothing but a hot shower to wash the day's sweat away. He punched his time clock, bid good day to his co-workers and started heading off site.

"Curtis, get in here," Mr. Wilcox's voice bellowed from inside the office, stopping him cold in his tracks.

Darry cursed under his breath as his stomach turned to lead. He obeyed the order, careful to keep his emotions under control and his facial expressions neutral. If he had to get laid off, he was going to do it stoically.

The boss sat at his desk, cigarette in hand. He motioned for Darry to have a seat, but with a shake of his head, Darry refused.

"I'd rather stand, sir."

"Soot yourself. You know why I called you in here?" Mr. Wilcox looked up at him for the first time since he walked in.

"I got a real good idea."

"It's nothing against you, you're a good worker, but I've got to let one more go and you're the last one I hired. Maybe when things pick up..."

"I'll have another job by then," Darry snapped, his face growing hot as the realization of being jobless hit him full on. He wanted to beg for his job, tell the boss that he needed it more than the other guys.

He'd had custody of his brothers for four months now and the state wasn't going to like the idea of him being out of work, but he couldn't grovel in front of this man, or any man for that matter. His dad had taught him that no matter what you had to keep your head held up high, and that's exactly what he intended to do.

The boss nodded as he handed over the white envelope. "Well, if you don't..."

Darry nodded back grimly and took the envelope, mumbling out a goodbye as he stalked out of the office toward his truck without so much as a glance back. He could feel the guys staring at him and the thought of being the topic of conversation tomorrow on the site was enough to make him want to go back and start swinging punches.

Instead, he flung his tool belt into the back and hopped into the driver's seat, slamming the door hard behind him. He ripped open the envelope, crumbled up the pink sheet of paper inside and threw it out the window, before turning his attention toward the check.

He sighed at the amount written on the check and slammed his hand against the door panel. After the utilities were paid, there wasn't going to be much left for anything else. He tossed the envelope on the seat in front of him and peeled off site, burning rubber as he went.

*****

The bank was packed with everyone trying to get in their last minute transactions before it closed down in half an hour. Darry sighed with impatience, the check in his front pocket burning a hole into his chest as he racked his brain trying to figure out what to do next.

He could ask for more hours at the pipe factory, but that still wasn't going to be enough to make the mortgage and keep food on the table, even with Soda working part time. He would have to find another job and quick too.

"If it ain't Darrel Curtis."

Darry turned around in line to find Paul Holden staring back at him, a shit eating grin on his face.

"Hey Paul," he greeted, thinking there couldn't be a worse person for him to run into right then.

"Whatcha up to these days? Still roofing?"

Darry gave a stiff nodded, moving with the line. There was no way he was going to give Paul the satisfaction of knowing he'd been laid off. In high school they'd always been real competitive with each other and he still felt that pull to be better than him now.

"Yeah? Think you could slip a word in about me to your boss for when school let's out. I need to line up a summer job."

"You're dad not hiring this summer?"

"Sure he is, but I'm looking for something different, filing folders for the old man isn't exactly what I'd call exciting."

"Either is shingling a roof," Darry answered, coldly, thinking back to Joe. At least they had a back up plan if things went south.

Paul shrugged, not at all put off by his sour mood. Darry wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even notice, Paul wasn't the most perceptive person out there. Smart, yes, but denser than a box of rocks.

"Hey, you doing anything right now? We could go grab a beer, reminisce about old times."

"Yeah, like the time you fumbled the ball and almost cost us championships," Darry said, an evil grin playing on his lips. Teasing Paul almost made him forget about his other worries.

"That wasn't how it happened and you know it."

The line in front of them was slowly dissipating in front of them and in a few minutes it'd be Darry's turn.

"So, what do you say, a few beers down at Lucky's?"

Just the thought of it made Darry cringe. The last thing he wanted to do was reminisce about the good times, it made right now seem all that much worse and he just couldn't tease himself. This was his life now and he had to spend his free time job hunting, not kicking it back at a bar.

"I'd love to, Paul, but I can't. I got to get on home and make sure my brothers are hitting the homework."

"So, you're still doing the father thing?"

Darry nodded. "Someone's got to."

"Who would've thought boy of the year would end up shingling roofs for a living?"

If he hadn't been next in line at the teller, Darry would've made sure that Paul's face ended up on the other side of the room. But the check need to be deposited today, and getting thrown out of the bank was as sure fire way to see that it didn't happen.

Without bidding goodbye to Paul, he approached the counter in front of him, pulling the measly check out of his pocket as he went.

****

By the time Darry pulled his truck up to the curb, the sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon. He cut the engine, dreading the thought of going inside with the bad news weighing so heavily on his chest. Just picturing the worried looks he'd get from both his brothers when he told them about his job loss was enough to make his stomach turn.

He'd tell Soda first, he thought with a nod, pulling his tool belt out of the back of the truck, before dredging up the front walk.

Even on the porch, he could already hear lively sounds bellowing from his house, giving it a cheerful vibe that Darry couldn't relate to. With one final sigh, he pushed through the front door to find Soda and Steve arguing over something miniscule, like always.

"Did not," Soda piped, hunching over the stove to stir something unrecognizable in a pot.

Noodles boiled on another burner and Darry figured that the colorful mess Soda was stirring was supposed to be spaghetti sauce or something to the equivalent.

"How are you gonna say that? You did too!"

"Hey Dar, dinner's almost ready." His brother looked up with a grin, before turning back to Steve. "I never said I'd go out with Margie Hawkins."

"You did, you said she was one cute looking chick, and you'd do anything for _one night with her_." Steve put his hands on his heart, mockingly and Soda chucked a rag at him.

"I did not, I said her chest was nothing to scoff at, that's all I said, and don't go telling Sandy either."

"You two bicker like an old married couple," Darry chided, pulling dishes out of the cabinet.

"I resent that."

"Where's Pony?"

"Where else?" Steve jabbed a thumb towards the back door.

Darry nodded, wondering what the deal was with his brother and sunsets. He needed to have his head in his books, not in the clouds.

"Ponyboy," he hollered out the back door, "get in here, dinner's bout' ready."

Pony sighed, but obediently came inside anyway. He peered over Soda's shoulder and into the pot.

"Looks good Soda," he said with a grin.

Darry wondered if they had both been looking at the same dish, but didn't say anything. He knew it was useless to give Soda a hard time about his cooking, besides they were all used to his antics by now.

"I don't know about the looks of it, but it smells pretty darn good," Steve piped in.

"Everything alright Dar?" Soda asked, studying his older brother's face carefully.

Darry cursed silently to himself. Why'd his brother have to be so darn perceptive all the time. He could've at least waited until there was no audience before asking him a question like that.

"Yeah," he nodded, "just another long day is all."

He veered around Soda and grabbed the pot of noodles off the stove, pouring them into the strainer in the sink.

"You sure?" Soda asked, incredulously, his brows furrowing together with concern. "You didn't pull another muscle, did you?"

"Relax Soda," Steve piped in, "You know you ain't gotta worry about him, Superman can take care of himself."

"Watch it Steve," Darry warned, narrowing his eyes, dangerously. "I ain't in the mood." He didn't feel much like a superhero right then and didn't want to be compared to one either.

"Ain't in the mood to what? think up a catchy comeback. Can't say I'm all that surprised, Darry. All brawn and no brain."

A red haze blinded Darry's vision and without thinking he veered his fist back and landed a square punch right at Steve's jaw. He stood there, enjoying the look of agony appear on Steve's face as he stumbled back and cradled his chin in his right hand.

"Beat it, before you regret it," Darry hissed, moving closer, like a wild animal about to devour it's prey.

Steve took a few more steps back, but stayed in the room, glancing over at Soda with hesitant eyes.

"You heard him," Soda growled, his cheerful demeanor no longer detectable. "You ain't welcome here right now."

Steve hightailed it out the door without a word and Darry smiled inwardly for the first time that day, pleased to shut Randle up.

Darry pulled out a bowl from the cupboard and dumped the spaghetti into it, while his brothers both remained speechless and motionless around him. He slammed the bowl down on the table, and reached for the sauce, bringing that down with a bang as well.

"You two gonna eat or just stand there all night?" He asked, sitting down to the table himself.

Soda moved toward the table first, nodding up at Pony to let him know it was alright. Darry looked up just in time to catch the exchange of looks between his brothers, but he didn't comment on it, too concerned with his own thoughts to worry about theirs. He was still fuming mad about Steve and had half the nerve to go after him and really give him a beating. It was bad enough to have to listen to Holden give him a hard time about not going to college, he sure as hell wasn't going to put up with some kid telling him he didn't have any brains.

"Pass the milk, Soda, will you?" He asked, dumping a ladle full of sauce over his noodles.

Soda nodded and handed the bottle over. "He didn't mean anything by it, Dar, sometimes Steve just don't think before he opens his mouth."

"Now he'll have all the time in the world to think, if I hit him right he won't be able to open his mouth up for a good long while."

"What's eating at you anyway?"

"Nothing, I'm just not gonna take any flack from a smart ass in my own house."

"Nah, something else is bugging you besides Steve," Soda countered, shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth.

"If you say so," Darry responded, hoping his brother would forgive him for his lie.

He didn't want to say anything in front of Ponyboy, for fear of bringing his nightmares back. For the first time since January his brother was finally sleeping peacefully through the night and he didn't want to do anything to disrupt that. No, he'd tell Soda about being laid off later that night while he was perusing the classifieds for job listings.

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